


Icarus Wasn't the Only One With Hubris

by ShadeOfAzmeinya



Series: FAHC Mythology [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform, I'm Sorry, Major character death - Freeform, Poetic style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 06:05:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17095223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeOfAzmeinya/pseuds/ShadeOfAzmeinya
Summary: If the Golden Boy was Icarus, flying too close to the sun, reaching out with curious fingers on brilliant wings, then Ramsey was Daedalus. The one who created the Golden Boy, the one who took the wax and feathers in his hands and showed him how they melded together.





	Icarus Wasn't the Only One With Hubris

**Author's Note:**

> I debated adding this on here from my tumblr because it's very sad and very old, but I finally gave in and made it its own fic. This is why I shouldn't write while listening to sad songs.

The story was never about the sun. The story was never about flying too high or too low. It was the story of freedom. The story of a moment of joy and a moment of grief. Of a father loosing his son to the ocean grave as they covered the body and carried it down below.  Of a father freeing the son in the first place. Freeing him to his ultimate destruction.

If the Golden Boy was Icarus, flying too close to the sun, reaching out with curious fingers on brilliant wings, then Ramsey was Daedalus. The one who created the Golden Boy, the one who took the wax and feathers in his hands and showed him how they melded together. Who led the flight, who gave warning but didn’t think to look back. Didn’t think to make sure he listened. Didn’t think of the doom he was leading them towards.

Of course he would reach for the sun. So dazzling and bright in a world where they had sat so long in the dark. Of course he would want to feel its warmth, its rays wash over him. You had both stared so longingly at it from the cold, from the filth as you did what you had to in order to survive. As you slowly learned together how wings are made and how to dig yourselves out of the pit that life had so pleasantly locked you in.

You don’t remember who’s idea it was, you think, years later as you sit atop a tower, this one you built safeguards into the traps, ways for you to get out without flying again. Ways to keep those you don’t trust away. You can’t remember who was the first to point to the people who were surviving, _thriving_ in such scum. The first to compare them to birds. The first to think, “What’s keeping us from flying?” “Why can’t we soar above them all?”

You suppose in the end you did fly, Daedalus thinks as he sips whiskey from the glass in his hand, ignoring the sting deep in his throat.  You soared.  _God_ , did you soar. Built a whole family in the sky, never looking back to the dark you took off from.

You should’ve watched him, Daedalus thinks as he drains the bottle, wanting the ache to take over his whole body. Wanting the burn to feel as his did, as the sun scorched the feathers, melted the wax. As he plummeted far belong. A bullet may be a quicker death than drowning, but the result is still the same. A motionless body and empty eyes.

Daedalus held him in his hands. Cradled the body of the bright, young boy as the wings bent crooked from the fall, as the red dripped from his chest, staining the ground beneath him. You went too far, Daedalus realized as he brushed through his hair one last time, rested their foreheads together one last time. You went too high, his eyes grew too excited, you should’ve seen it. You should’ve stopped it. He didn’t need to go back in, he didn’t need that one more bag of cash, he didn’t need it, you didn’t need it, you didn’t  _need it, you didn’t –_

At least this Icarus didn’t get an ocean grave, Daedalus thinks bitterly as he stands besides the stone, stands above the ground his body rests. At least this Icarus wasn’t alone when his final breath came. At least this Daedalus doesn’t have to wonder what became of his son.

Daedalus hangs up his wings in their new tower, made of glass to look over the city they’ve claimed. The stories they’ve climbed. He leaves them in the hands of their family as he takes all his things during the night, leaving to go far away from here. He’s done with flying. He doesn’t want to go near the sky any longer. Not when his son is under the ground. Not when Icarus is laid to rest. Covered in brilliant gold that shone as bright as the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: shadeofazmeinya . Come say hi!


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